


Lavellan Age: Origins

by Setheneran



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Awkward Cullen, Circle Tower, Circle of Magi, Dalish Culture, Dalish Elven Culture and Customs, Dalish Elves, Dalish Origin, F/M, Magic, Mutual Pining, Romance, circle mage lavellan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 11:39:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5784016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Setheneran/pseuds/Setheneran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dawn Lavellan needed only one thing: to escape the circle tower and return to her clan. Best friends Neria Surana, Jowan, Anders and a dangerously too much like a person Templar Cullen promise that her time there will not be uneventful. This series will follow an unlikely Lavellan through her beginnings as a circle mage to the events of DA:O and DA2 and eventually (if I ever get around to it) to her rise as the Inquisitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kept

**Author's Note:**

> I have plans for this to span all three games (might be split up into different works). It will get progressively more mature, more characters will appear later and they'll be bigger sprinkling of cuteness later. For now let's just see how the beginning goes.

Crunching grass between toes, the soft braying of Halla, smiles among fire.

She sang it to herself over and over again in a tight ball on her bed.

She would not forget, they could not take her memories, she was a strong Dalish elf of clan Lavellan and she was more than what they had made her. 

This place was a stone prison, frost between toes, held breaths and tight lips. 

“Dawn?” The cautious hand that nudged her was soft and kind but she had to sing to herself a few more times to keep the memories close. Just a few more times.  
The owner of the kind hand tried a few more times before sudden warmth was at Dawn’s back as she was drawn into a tight embrace. The quiet strength of it sent out slow waves of calm from where they pushed into her chest and hot air suddenly shot out from her paling lips. Tears were a weakness and instead they welled up in the ends of her fingers. A sharp electric feeling seemed to branch out from her chest driven by a strong buzzing current that fried her nerves. Slowly the pain journeyed from her finger tips back to her heart and then settled in the private part of her brain where she kept it locked up for safe keeping.  
She slowly unfurled from the embrace and turned to face her new friend, eyes conveying her thanks. 

“The dreams we have when we are awake are the worst. I barely remember the alienage. I remember grasping hands of goodbye, stolen sugar pastries and strong hands braiding my hair.” She had her own chant. 

After lingering in the silence for a moment Dawn spoke, “Neria, lethallan,... I am really glad you are here.” Neria smile was small but she had learned early on to keep it in her eyes. Arms tightened and sleep eventually came for them both.  
**  
Being in the circle was exactly the nightmare her Keeper had warned her about. However, what she had not expected were the friends and family she found in the other mages. She and Neria were Irving’s pupils. His starlight and sunshine. On the first night Irving was quick to be a friendly face among the monsters that had tore her from the forest. He took her to his office and asked her in a rumbling voice to show him her talent. He seemed to have enough power to make the Templar regiment wait outside and that was enough for Dawn to relax by the smallest fraction. Frost and storm magic came most naturally to her. Summoning a ball of lightening in her hand by drawing on the particles in the air and turning them sharp her eyes darted to the older man for approval or the horror she was told to expect from shemlens. 

“I will be your teacher, Dawn.” His arm on her shoulder also seemed to say ‘I’ll keep you safe’. 

As one of the few mages born to her clan Dawn’s talents had been nurtured and cultivated so they would flourish. She was encouraged to learn and it was pride that ringed her father’s eyes not shame or fear. Her edges were trimmed and refined and whilst her magic remained wild control came easily except when her emotions burned hot. One of her captor’s freshly seared flesh could attest to this. Burning him had earned her a bulging bruise but she had fought and she clung to that knowledge fiercely. That made her someone she liked, someone who could survive this until she found a way to escape. 

Her father most definitely thought she was dead she told her bare feet as the boat bobbed towards the tower making her stomach dance wildly. It was a great rising beast trying to strike the heavens with its sharp point but just failing. Its reach had been long enough to ensnare her, however, she mused. Dawn thought that the most terrifying thing she had experienced was snarling and sharp hands on her sides after she had cast a mage light to find her way back to her clan but the approaching the tower, this darkly laughing beast was worse. ‘I am your home now’ it seemed to boom at her and there she created the chant.  
**  
Pulling on shoes felt… wrong. Her feet were trapped and encased in a deep pit of leather. Every other part of her was imprisoned, she would let this part of her be free. Blue robes trailed along the floor so she kept her secret. This little defiance made her feel strong enough to get out of bed and walk the halls of the tower and not fall at the glancing blows from Templar eyes. Her life consisted of lessons with Irving, shouting Dalish expletives at anyone who dare call her knife ear, exchanging rare and powerful laughter with her few friends and studying tomes in the expansive library. 

Years passed and more friends came to take up some of the space in her heart that was not already consumed by hatred, unquenchable longing and fear. Neria, Jowan, Irving and Anders. They gave her purpose, made her feel light instead of constantly weighed down by fear and lightning bolt pangs of hopelessness. Her sixteenth birthday loomed before her like a threat. Neria was from an alienage but her mother had once been Dalish and she understood. Due to her status she would have been more likely to have undergone the ritual earlier than eighteen. During which she would arm herself with promises to the Creators and she would truly become the first of their clan. Fingers softly traced invisible paths on her face where her vallaslin should be. Wholeness could not be achieved without them, without her clan. Walking around with missing pieces meant she had to compensate, had to channel that energy into her studies, had to survive. 

They were studying tomes in their safe little corner of the library when Anders shuffled closer to her under the guise of pointing out an intriguing line of text. Instead he swooped in next to her pointed ear making it shiver for a moment. His breath was hot and that heat sprung straight through her ear and took over her body for a few intangible moments where the world was just one heartbeat of blurry vision and too warm hands. 

“I found an unguarded tunnel.” His lips skimmed against her ear as he slunk away again generating a hot blush she quickly stifled. Their eyes locked together conspiratorly. They had discussed this secretly many times with thinly veiled words, shared looks and in their fierce protection of each other from their captors.  
Anders was the thought her mind taunted her with in the darkest parts of the morning when she burst awake with sweat and Elvish speech desperate to escape the back of her throat. It was not just his wicked grin, he was the embodiment of her desire to realize to her true self. She tried to nurture the growing Dalish girl inside of her as well as maintain the circle mage mask she had to don for them but, the mask was growing tighter on her face becoming skin. She spent hidden hours studying her culture in brief stand alone paragraphs in the tomes. Thinking her thoughts in Elvehn, humming the songs of old and keeping her chant on a loop in the back of her consciousness helped her cling to what she had little she had left of her clan. No one else was as brazen or dedicated as Anders to be free of their shackles. He had spent many nights in solitary, had his magic stripped from him through constant Templar guard for weeks (he was a shell during that time, a flower plucked because it was beautiful and given over to the whims of the wind) and had undergone his harrowing at fifteen in an attempt to make him disappear she assumed rather than test his abilities. The experience was something he still would not divulge much to her chagrin. He did, however, came back that afternoon with a lofty stack of books for them all to study rigorously. Despite his elevated status as a full mage he still spent most of his time with their small family. 

Neria chucked her a teasing look at the interaction and Dawn knew the fellow elf would bug her about it endlessly later. She liked Anders, her blush said as much just as her desire to have him near, but she liked what he offered more. 

He pointed to the page number, “12.” He said and shot her a look as effective as a shout. She nodded. ‘Meet you at midnight’ that swift tilt of her head said.  
**  
Midnight was when the Templars guards shifts rotated. They knew which Templars were lazier than others and Anders took his one minute window to grasp her hand and pull Dawn through the door closing it gently behind them. 

“So what is this plan of yours?” her voice a slight breeze, “Because you are not going to get very far without your phylactery.”  
He grasped her other hand sending sparks of tingles throughout her, “We just need to get far enough.”  
Another well thought out Anders plan. She wondered if this guy ever looked at what happened after the exit door. Sighing she began to let go of his hands.  
“That is a terrible plan.” She smirked a little at him no longer taking any of it seriously. 

He shushed her and nudged her gently with his shoulder leading the way. Storage rooms led in to more rooms and stairs snaked ever downwards until they reached an easily missed door. Anders wiggled his eyebrows at her. Ice shot out from his hand in a tight beam frosting the lock and then he snapped it with his staff. With a held breath they opened the door and found a small opening with a ladder leading down a deep pit. 

“Romantic date in the sewers I take it?”  
“Only the best for you.” He said with an easy wink and a bow. Grasping the ladder he slid down punctuating the decline with a rich chuckle.  
It was never a perfect plan but the cracks in it started to rupture almost immediately. With her sensitive ears she picked up the metallic clunk of boots and gruff whispers.

“It’s that fanatical one again, to the void with him. He was missing at bed check. He hasn’t tried this way yet. Guy could do us all a favour and drown down there.”  
Her heart wormed up the back of her throat to her mouth and there it began to beat erratically. Anders was already lost in the darkness and she quickly made a choice. She sent a strong current of air magic gentle at first as a practiced warning and then strong knowing Anders would instinctively combine it with his own for speed (they had discussed similar ideas at length). Erecting a strong barrier over the mouth of stairs she then closed the door as quietly as she could on verge of a heart attack. A stack of crates rested in the corner and she crouched behind them, their size easily shadowing her lithe form. 

She did not want to run all her life. She wanted to shatter her phylactery and return to her clan not endanger them by having a horde of Templars on her heels. The best thing she could was give him the best chance possible and she could only do that if she stayed close to her wards. Knuckles became white and she wove another barrier tight over her skin muffling her fear and magic that burned within her hoping that the spell emanating from the stair barrier would distract them.  
Boots led up and up even higher to two beasts with flaming swords on their chest; an ever burning fuel for their hatred. 

“After you, Ser Cole.”  
“Oh no, Ser Bryant, I insist you go. Your dispelling abilities are far greater than mine and they should serve you especially well down there.” He bore his teeth at the other as the two wolves snarled completely oblivious to the hidden elf. Eventually the loser tried to climb down the ladder and immediately bounced off the barrier.  
“Andraste’s well formed tits.” He cursed as his armour clunked harshly on stone to the amusement of the other. Taunting soon twisted to anger as he attempted to dispel the magic. 

Dawn’s will was strong and the barrier held for several heartbeats instead of shattering. The Dalish girl held on tight but the circle mage eventually broke. The two swung down the ladder with as much speed as their armour and silly long skirts allowed and she sent a prayer to Mythal hoping that she had given Anders the time he needed. 

With fear clouding the edges of her vision and threatening to take over her body Dawn darted out of the room and through the unguarded door. Calm was what the next part needed and years in the circle had trained her emotions as well as her abilities. Her features softened as she slowed her gait. Each step was more painful than the last and fueled her panic. Her heart continued to thudunk fiercely as if it were a plaything for one of those little fluffy creatures Anders adored so much. She passed Templar after Templar with mutterings about late night study peppered with fear for her imminent harrowing until she was escorted back to the apprentice quarters with minimal questioning. Her arrival awakened Neria and the other elf turned towards her with obvious fear. Dawn nodded her head promising a talk in the morning. Sleep could not possibly take her and instead she stared at the unyielding stone above and fretted about Anders. Rolling over something shifted in her pocket. Her hand went to it immediately in confusion. There was no light but she felt the essence inside of it burning brighter than flame. Her mouth sprung open into a little ‘o’. Her mind flashed back to when Anders had nudged into her. Quiet fingers must have slipped into her pocket. His phylactery. Curving her lips she slid it back into the folds of her robes. He would be safe and one day she would find him again.


	2. Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dealing with aftermath of Anders' escape and meeting a stuttering Templar.

Neria was relentless the next day. She could not have been fiercer if she were a Mabari tearing out the throat of an unfortunate victim.

“Paigel said that he actually made it out. Anders had been questioning him about a water breathing spell the other day. Do you think he made it? He must be the first mage to successfully escape in years...” Neria thoughts blazed from one passing whisper of gossip to the next. 

A bud of warmth was wriggling in the pit of Dawn’s stomach. Soft and fragile to the touch the petals that bloomed off of it felt lovely. It was a pleasant shiver and she did her best to keep the smile from her lips. Anders was safe and now he always would be. One of the petals suddenly burnt hot with anger as another thought sizzled in her mind. Why did he not grab her phylactery as well? Did he have hers safe in his pocket where he could softly caress its edges with his fingers and think of the silly Dalish girl who refused to follow him? He must not have been able to recognise it. Blood calls to blood. While she knew the phylactery she kept was his when she reached out to it she did not get brief flashes of sandy hair, crooked lips and countless conversations about cats. That was just what her mind conjured. No, the phylacteries would have been labelled or something. Lips twisted in frustration as she tried to find all the pieces to the puzzle that was Ander’s brain.

“Dawn?” Neria stared at her questioningly with enormous green eyes reminding her of the crunching grass. Glancing around the library she saw only a few apprentices practicing barriers. Templar eyes could see her well enough but their ears would fail to capture her secret.

“I helped him.” She whispered to Neria answering all the burning glances she had received this morning. 

Hurt immediately sliced across her features, “Why didn’t you tell me? I don’t exactly love it here, you know, contrary to how much I am always gushing about the tasteless gruel and lack of sunlight.” 

The happy budding flower in her stomach was crushed by an armoured boot and its remains festered. “I know, I can’t believe we did that to you and … Creators, to Jowan. We weren’t thinking. I didn’t even think he would manage it this time. You know how many times we have gone along with an Ander’s plan. I don’t even know if he truly intended me to go with him…” ‘What ifs’ burned in her eyes but she stabbed her nails into the palms of her hand to smother them. Crying was giving in and that was not something she was ever going to do. 

A soft hand squeezed hers, “It’s okay. I understand. It is rather easy to get swept up in Anders’ escape plans,” Neria’s lips swung up settling Dawn’s stomach, “Do you remember the time he tried to cause a tidal wave and attempted to float down from Wynne’s office onto a boat?”

Dawn chuckled lightly, “My favourite is the time he clanked about in stolen Templar armour and tripped all over himself before even making it to the dock.”   
After a few more shared memories their laughter was snuffed by a sadness that had stealthily welled up deep in their bodies.

“I am going to miss him.” Neria sighed.  
“Me too.”  
“At least our likelihood of not being made tranquil has gone up by at least ten points.” She had meant it as a joke but it only plunged them further down.   
“Our harrowing must be soon. With him gone they are going to worry that we are all at risk.” Dawn mused with furrowed eyebrows.

Exchanging worried glances they returned to their studies with renewed fervor. Anders haunted the very back of their minds constantly but he was gone and their survival was more paramount than ruminating. They wanted to not hate him for leaving them but a splinter of it remained under their skin. For the most part the thought of his escape planted a little seed in both of their hearts protecting their sanity better than any ugly head cowl Irving tried to coax them in to. Seriously, could they not enchant some circlets?

**

As if the tower did not have enough Templars growing out of it like spindleweed another regiment arrived a few months after Ander’s escape. A few new apprentices numbered among them with fear emanating from every part of their being. The senior enchanters swooped in as usual upon their arrival and shepherded them into offices attempting to soothe a haemorrhaging wound that would never truly heal. This was as much to test their worth as it was to comfort them and imbue them with belonging. Dawn also knew they were trying to weed out those with a strong potential to give into temptation and blood magic. Those were passed off to Uldred. He never directly took on apprentices but he did give sporadic classes to those who were deemed most likely to become abominations. This was not made explicitly known but Dawn had stumbled across Irving’s open journal one day and whoops a strong breeze also flipped it so she could read quite a few pages before Irving’s footsteps approached. 

Wandering back from training with a light sprinkle of powdered snow in her dark hair from a poorly aimed winter’s grasp she found a stray puppy that had missed being spirited away. Memories of her first night in the tower and how Irving had grounded her panic trickled into her mind. The person in front of her was older than most apprentices were when they arrived. He must be clever or he must come from a loving family particularly adept at keeping his talents hidden, she thought. His hair was sunshine captured in soft curls and as she approached eyes the colour of daybreak met hers before quickly finding a rather intriguing brick to stare at instead.

“Little lost?” She spoke softly as if not to spook him. Her words were a toe dipping into a pond.   
He allowed himself look at her again and her impossibly large eyes despite desperately grasping at a reason not to. He had met few elves but the pointed ears kind of gave her away. Clearing his throat his hand instinctively went to rub the back of his neck.   
“I – er- I am just waiting.” He managed to stutter out.   
Her heart warmed at the way he stumbled over his words and how a light dusting of pink brushed over his cheeks. Dawn wandered over closer, “Mind if I wait with you?”  
“Of course not.” His Adam’s apple bobbed ferociously in time with the swirling current her presence had spun up within him. Maker’s breath, how can I be talking with –  
“I’m Dawn… like the lotus flower… or the time of day.” She frowned at how awkward she felt the words sounded. Her mouth suddenly felt heavy.   
Wide eyes looked up at him expectantly. What for? It came to him like a swift kick making his face flush hotter, “Oh, I am Cullen.” A shivery silence buzzed around them for a few quickened heart beats. 

“You, uh,” his hand gently reached for her hair absentmindedly, “have some snow in your hair.” His eyebrows furrowed as a laugh that rumbled low in his chest warmed the air. Her eyelashes swept downwards as he awkwardly drew his hand away after just barely dipping into her waterfall of dark hair with his fingers. Remembering himself his hand drew back and found his neck again with his laugh morphing into more of an awkward choke.  
“Where are you from?” Dawn asked her cheeks lightly stained with pink matching his own and rogue dragonflies fluttered relentlessly in her stomach.   
“Honnleath.” He managed to hurl out.   
“Was it a long journey? You seem to have some kind of problem with your neck? Wynne can help you with that later if you like with some elfroot extract.”   
“Oh,” he coughed and the tips of his ears were suddenly on fire as his hand immediately left his neck for his side making a loud slapping noise, “no I just uh…ha… Where are you from? Denerim?”  
Her laugh danced from her mouth gently but it bore a sharp edge, “I am Dalish.”   
He suddenly felt very awkward and had no idea what to do with his hands. Fingers twitched with a desire to return to his neck or even to fully delve into the long wave of her hair.  
“I am afraid I don’t know too much about Dalish elves. I can’t say I have ever met one.”  
“Well, you can’t say that anymore.” Her smile slayed him. It was true, wide and his eyes lingered on her full lips.   
“I have always – uh- been interested in learning more about them, however. I like to learn new things,” He laughed unsurely his eyes widening as he stumbled over his words, “The culture, the language the – er - vallaslin…” Her eyes seemed to light up upon mentioning the markings causing his heart to wriggle slightly with pleasure.   
“I was taken when I was quite young but if you are interested I would be happy to teach you a few things.” There was that smile again. 

She moved in a little closer absentmindedly not quite invading his personal space but flirting with edges of it. Her presence caused his throat to seize up. Her scent was subtle but it reminded him of a cool warning breeze as the sky quickened towards a storm. She was so small he could easily pin her to the wall without even labouring his breath. No, that was an extremely inappropriate thought to have, he chided himself. She buzzed with a warm energy. Skin pale from lack of sunlight only made the fire within her burn brighter. Despite her small frame her waist flared out to lovely hips he could just image grasping and pulling her in close. These feelings, whilst incredibly inappropriate, reminded him of brief fumbling interactions in his earlier adolescent years. He could not bear to look into her wide eyes, eyes that reminded him of his favourite lake near home, for too long lest he let himself get lost within their dangerous depths. Andraste’s mercy, has it really been so long since I have talked to a beautiful girl that I have degenerated into a salivating beast? Forgetting himself his eyes found hers again and the smile he found in them lead to a soft one of his own.

“I would li-” He began in velvet voice but he was suddenly cut off by the metallic clink of armour slamming into itself.  
“Ser Cullen, here is you armour.” The knight stopped short with fixed brows upon seeing the pair’s exchange. Cullen immediately dashed forward fumbling as he took the too neat pile of metal and cloth. Dawn felt all her insides crumble to her feet slightly slackening the features of her face. Being hit with a hex of torment would have been kinder.   
“I’ll escort you to the barracks.” The knight bore deep holes into Dawn with his eyes as he swiftly turned on his heel. Cullen followed but threw a little look over his shoulder with sad eyes, a racing mind and the memory of her scent teasing him as he straightened up and rounded the corner. 

Dawn gather up her insides from where they lay in pieces at her feet and put them back in their rightful places. For the most part. Her lungs did not seem to be functioning properly and her heart was beating much too fast. She chastised her organs for being so selfish. For being so swept up in golden eyes and warm skin. She had never spoken to a Templar. Not like that. Not like a… friend. When they had spoken she had almost felt the hot caress of the sun again, picked up the barest tendril of campfire smoke hiding in the air and she could conjure up the most fragile memory of grass between toes. His newness had excited her as did his hand in her hair that should have been an uninvited guest. He had seemed far too much like a person to be a Templar. As she wandered to the dining hall to meet with Jowan and Neria she assured herself that it was a very big castle and that she would likely never have to see him again. Her heart gave out an extra few beats and she told it to calm down because there was not even the slightest bit of excitement brewing over the prospect of seeing him again. No, not even one bit.


	3. Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn requests combat training as the looming threat of her harrowing breathes down her neck. More awkward encounters of the Cullavelan kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The parts in the circle are taking me quite while to crank out (I have a post circle chapter sitting patiently in the recesses of my computer) but I managed to write another chapter so that is what I like to call progress. Hope someone enjoys this.

Hand poised over Irving’s office door Dawn drew in a much needed long breath attempting to sooth her burning nerves. It had been a while since she had made the request of Irving so perhaps this time will be different. She would have been first of her clan and decades would have been spent molding her into the leader they deserved. She would be an unyielding force of magic, a scholar, a tie to which they must never forget, as well as a fierce warrior. Her eyes focused on her slight hands. The skin there had soft calluses from her training staff and held the barest whisper of burns but in truth her hands were fragile things. They were not warrior’s hands. 

Knock, knock, knock.

The sound was loud but tilted up into a questioning edge. Drawing up her shoulders she let the circle mage mask slide off her face just slightly.  
When Irving opened the door his eyes attempted to hide a secret amusement but Dawn held the key to his sly emotions and steeled her will. 

“What can I do for you, child?” His gravelly voice rolled over her and she tried not to get cut by the unintentionally rough edges. 

Clearing her throat she began, “I wanted to request combat training again. I know Knight Commander Gregoir thinks it will be dangerous for a mage to be able to protect herself when her magic is stripped off but this is important to me as a Dalish elf and quite frankly as a woman.”

He held her gaze for several eternities.

“Irving, I am not asking to put a sword and shield under my pillow I just want to be taught the basics. If I am ever to rejoi-.” She stuttered to a halt, swallowed and continued, “I need this. I need this to keep myself sane which I am sure benefits the Templars.”

Irving sat down putting his desk between them and he stroked his beard absently, “I’ll bring it to Gregoir again. Many of the mages from noble birth are granted such sanctions it is not unprecedented…”

Fighting down a smile Dawn lightly touched Irving’s shoulder and left the office. 

*

He folded his meagre belongings into painstakingly neat piles scowling at perceived imperfections as he unfolded and refolded them a few more times. He buzzed with electric energy ready to metaphorically zap whoever was reckless enough to get too close. How could he have talked like that with a mage? They were men and women just like everyone else he knew but he was supposed to be a protector. Keep the mages safe from themselves and keep the world safe from the mages. Cullen had never actually spoken to one before and had been surprised at how… well… normal she seemed. She certainly had not seemed like she could whip out a dagger at any given minute and bring forth demons with a song of blood. Shaking his head to try and rid himself of thoughts of calloused hands through soft hair and bright smiles he began to gently place his lyrium kit in the middle of the pile. Hands itched for the clasp. His first draught but a few weeks ago and already his blood ached for it and tightened knots within his brain. Surely it was almost time for another?

“Ser Cullen!” A booming voice sent the box clattering to the floor.

“Knight Commander.” Cullen straightened up and choked on a cough sending the lyrium kit under the bed with a sideways kick. Gregoir pointedly ignored it.

“As the most recent addition to Kinloch Hold I am afraid I am going to charge with you with a menial task.” Cullen noted that he did not look overly apologetic and braced for becoming the Hold’s maid. 

“You will give one of the mages minor combat training once a week for the time being.”

Cullen blinked and no words climbed up his throat.

“Cullen?”

“Yes, of course, Ser, which mage?”

“She’s an apprentice. This is just to slow down the sheer number of requests I receive from Irving. We’ll be sending her for her harrowing soon so it is no matter. The girl is talented but I have a bad feeling about her.”

He swallowed heavily, “Of course, Ser, I’ll teach her.”

*

Excitement burbled away in Dawn’s chest. The feeling was so foreign to her that she panicked at first fearing that she was on the edge of death but as her fingers felt out a smile on her face she decided that she did not mind either way. Shards of nervousness violently tore away little patches of her excitement as her wait drew on. Irving waited with her which she appreciated because she was not entirely looking forward to being locked in a small room with a soldier who only saw a vessel for an abomination. At least they would not pull any punches. 

Two feet entered the room leading up to a strong figure in light clothes with sunshine for hair. Dawn’s rib cage tightened around her lungs harshly pushing out a breath through her mouth.

“Oh.” The templar started causing Dawn’s rib cage to ease up a little. If he felt uncomfortable then despite her own nerves she felt she had a bit more control over the situation. 

Irving gave her a little wave goodbye as he retreated. 

Cullen closed his eyes for a moment refusing to be pulled down into a pit of stumbling words and awkward glances. He made himself imagine her as just another soldier and his mind wandered to his years of grueling templar training. Due to his skill he had often been chosen to run training exercises in his final years as a recruit. She was just like any of those recruits. Only stunning, adorable and err... dangerous and untrustworthy. Okay, he could manage that. When he opened his eyes a moment later to her nervously fretting with the arm of her robe he almost lost his resolve.

“Is it safe to assume that you have no combat experience?” Cullen inquired passing her a wooden practice sword.

Drawing up her shoulders she tightly clasped the sword’s hilt. What it represented imbued with her strength. “No experience that didn’t involve the flash of fire or chilled Templars no.”

A light chuckle escaped his lips as he began correcting her posture. His closeness made the hair on the back of her neck leap up as if they were trying to shorten the gap between them. 

“You’re not holding it at the pointy end so you are doing better than a lot of recruits I have met so far.” His breath shot through the back of her neck and delved within her making her involuntarily shiver. A garbled sound forced its way out of her mouth as a pathetic reply.

He then spun around to face her, “Hit me.” 

“Uh what?” Dawn stuttered out.

He laughed again causing her stomach to swirl, “Hit me. That is what you came here to do right?” 

“Haha, oh right, okay. Hit you, yep, I am so all over that.” Narrowing her eyes she arced the sword out to make contact with his shirt.

His sword met hers easily but gently, “You are giving yourself away too much. Your elbow is betraying you. It is not all about force, especially for someone so… uh… petite, but finesse.”

Dawn’s thoughts collapsed together getting tangled. She had, had a dangerous day dream that this would all come naturally to her. Apparently swordswomanship would not come as easily to her as frosted fingertips.

He coughed trying to figure out what shape the puzzle piece needed to be for her, “I mean you must use force in your magic. Draw from an inner strength, your will. What you need for this likely comes from the same place.” He fixed her in place with his soft eyes, “Try and pull from there?” Glancing away unsure of himself she noticed how his fingers seized the sword’s hilt harder.

“I can try that.” A smile surprised her lips causing his to dance up in response.  
***

The next month brought bruises on bruises, frustrated hot breaths as sword failed to meet blocks, sudden surprises of easy laughter as they tangled into a heap on the floor swiftly turning back into tightened throats of awkwardness and a slow build of something neither of them acknowledged. 

Dawn slumped back into the wall after a rigorous session and Cullen tentatively joined her offering her a water skin. The sweat was making his shirt cling to every contour of his body. Being a Templar he was obviously very.... disciplined, Dawn noted, but not outrageously so. Old calloused fingers brushed over her new calloused one’s causing eyes to lock and breaths to catch before they remembered what each other was and withdrew. 

Dawn was proud of every bruise, every rough patch on her skin and after successfully getting her sword to hypothetically stab Cullen five times today (a new record) and how recently his breath was becoming more labored after their sessions she was feeling brave.

“Given how much time we have spent together it feels strange to know so little about you.” She threw a quick look his way distracted by the light sheen of sweat mussing his well maintained noodle hair. That reminded her, they had practiced for so long she had missed lunch.

“I am afraid there is not a lot to me.” He mumbled. 

“I’ll admit that story you told me about that recruit running naked through the Chantry was probably more intriguing than how many siblings you have but I am curious nonetheless. We could start with something easy. Favourite colour?”

“Red.”

“Can never sate your blood lust can you?” He grimaced before he realized she was joking.

“Afraid not.” He grinned, “an answer for an answer.” He gestured to her.

“Green.” She spoke wistfully memories of grass tantalizing her. 

“Oh and I have three siblings.” He stuttered out.

“You must miss them. I was an only child but everyone is family in a clan.” Her thoughts were wandering into hazardous territory so she decided to return to safer topics.

“Something must have sparked this desire of yours to protect the quivering throngs of innocents in Thedas?” She smirked managing to keep her tone light.

Fingers worked kinks out the back of his neck, “Well I just wanted to help people I suppose as cliché as that sounds. I ate a poultice once,” he grimaced on the release of that secret causing Dawn to stifle a little giggle, “so I knew the herbalist life wasn’t for me. I all but threw myself on the chantry steps. I was picked up by a passing Knight Commander and found myself a little daunted by the skill of the other recruits but training with my siblings and the few Templars Honnleath had to offer proved to be far more fruitful than I had hoped. It was a lot more book work than I anticipated but it was there I discovered that I loved to read and explore the past. Well, that is I liked to read anything but the chant. They made you recite and write notes on it until your candle burned down… and then they would fetch another.” Cullen did not realize he had vomited out so much out information and he fixed his gaze to a crack in the wall as a red unrelated to their exercise threatened to burst across his face. 

“So you were pretty much on the Templar recruitment posters?” The heat of her smile drew his eyes back to her eyes causing him to swallow hard.

“Not quite,” he laughed gently like cool breeze, “but I did throw myself in to training a lot fiercer than many of the other recruits. My bunkmate was this ridiculous guy, the running naked guy, and I would constantly have to make up excuses for him not arriving to training on time. Everything from a reaction to last night's dinner or that the Maker came to him a dream and told him that he required a few more hours to be mage hunting ready. They made him do warm ups in his underclothes once but it was not until they restricted cheese from his meals that set he started taking it seriously. He actually ended up being a pretty challenging sparring partner underneath his ten layers of jokes.”

“Did he come here with you?”

“No,” Cullen replied the faintest note of sadness underpinning his demeanor, “he was recruited to the Wardens. They made a bit of a fuss but everyone was pretty pleased to see the back of him. He was good for a laugh not too many laughs to be found here.”

“Uh no, we like our nights peppered with a healthy dose of heart attack inducing fear and a side of self hatred here at the circle.”

Silence settled over them like a heavy blanket in summer.

“It must be hard.”

“What?”

“Having magic. Being ripped from your old life and being trapped here. I mean it is a necessary precaution but-.”

Dawn could not stand up faster if someone had just opened the front gate of the hold.

“You think it is a necessary precaution to lock up everyone with magical abilities and put a demon inside of them and draw the life out of their souls if they are deemed at risk? Even if we pass our harrowing we have to spend our entire life within these stone walls wearing shoes everyday and getting only the briefest glimpse of the sun as we leaf through pages and pages of texts hoping one line will save us from temptation?”

Cullen drew himself up gingerly wincing from her verbal punches, “That not exactly what I-”

“Do you think I am dangerous?” Dawn looked up at him her pupils swimming in a white sea ribboned with anger and trying to hide slightest whisper of hope.  
They had spent countless hours together over the last month training and swapping brief stories. Cullen loved hearing about the Creators and Dawn laughed as he tripped over their names and she corrected him gently with a soft smile in her eyes. His templar helm eroded in front of her with each passing session but now he had drawn it back down on his head eclipsing the sunlight. 

He said nothing.

“Do you think I would hurt you?” Her hand was resting lightly on his chest before either of them realized it. All the heat in his body was drawn to that one spot near his thudding heart that he dreaded she could feel. Four eyes fixated on the once fragile hand daring it to move and politely retreat to her side where it belonged. She did not flinch as his hand came up to meet hers and grasp it. She peered up at him but he refused to return her gaze and instead slowly withdrew her hand. 

“It wouldn’t be right.” He breathed and Dawn’s insides felt as though they had been coated in a thick layer of poison. 

“None of this is right.” She whispered and left for the hallway leaving him looking at his hand and wondering if it had ever held something more precious than that little elf. His fingers raked fiercely through his hair making it stand up. A long breath dove out of his chapped lips as he slumped back against the wall. 

Maker help us all.


	4. Harrowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dawn undergoes the Harrowing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter building up to Uldred taking Kinloch Hold.

Two a.m. was meant for only two things: dreaming about dancing in a field of Halla and waking up gasping with the too loud memory of monsters that shocks all your organs back into the waking world. It was not meant for letting demons snake into her brain. She gave a final tentative glance around the room. Irving gave her a reassuring nod but she could see that if he clenched his mouth any tighter he would leave little fissures in his teeth. Self destructively her eyes wandered over to the only Templar in the room who did not have their hands clenching their sword’s hilt. Golden eyes washed over her. Come back, he mouthed giving Dawn the final push she needed to plunge into the fade.

***

She burst back into the waking world with a greedy intake of breath. Her body gave her enough time to smile weakly at Irving before she passed out. Fleeting memories of warm hands scooping her up and the smell of sun on grass teased her as she awoke to a ravenous Jowan and Neria with a thousand questions barraging out of their lips. 

“Apparently you had the quickest harrowing seen in the hold for ages. The Templar who so gallantly dropped you off this morning could not say enough wonderful things.” Neria smirked.

Jowan’s eyes narrowed, “Did you...?” His sentences led off his lips and into her head.

“That’s the one you’ve been training with, Dawn? You never said he was so well… disciplined." Neria grinned wickedly.

“He was rather ferverous. Babbled about you to any Templar or MAGE he came across. Neria almost died trying to stifle her laughter. 

Dawn waved at her two friends as if she could dispel them with a thought, “He would also have cut me down in an instant if I failed my harrowing. He’s a Templar, he was probably just happy he did not have to deal with an abomination. That is enough to make anyone have a good day.”

“Very defensive aren’t we Dawn?” Neria chirped.

“Hmmm, yes, maybe a little bit too defensive?” Jowan agreed with a sideways glance to Neria. They both grinned at her as the tittered away.

Dawn sighed and head for Irving’s office. Along the way she all but run into Cullen dutiful at his post. 

“Oh, hello. I pleased to see you up. Congratulations on passing your harrowing. It was the quickest anyone has seen for a long time.” He positively beamed. It made Dawn feel clumsy and she was concerned that if she tried to continue down the hallway she would trip. His hand was absently touching her arm sending off little waves of tingles throughout her body.

He continued his words quick, “They charged me with dealing the final blow should it have come to that. I am very glad it didn’t.” She could see him bite the inside of his lip. 

Memories of their last session still nipped at the corners of her mind, “Would you have done it?”

He crumpled, “You can’t ask me that. I wou-… I…are we continuing with the training sessions?” His voice lilted up with eyes filled with mild panic.

Dawn had, had enough. “You know, Cullen I really don’t think you’re being honest with me. I don’t think it’s all in my head. The electric glances, sharing your stories from home… I would like to see what this is.” Her eyes searched for an answer in his as he just stood there mouth slightly agape and hair ruffled.

“I-uh… that is… I would like…,” He smiled awkwardly with a stuttered laugh whilst kneading the back of his neck, no it wouldn’t…I have to go now.” With that he bolted down the hallway leaving a confused Dawn holding her vulnerable heart in her hands.  
**  
Neria’s harrowing came swiftly after Dawn’s and then came Jowan’s gigantic mess. Neria took the fall for it all and left with the visiting grey warden. Neria promised she would return for her but Dawn quickly found, glancing down at her empty hands and the quite places around her that used to be taken up by friends, that life had little meaning between meals. 

That’s when Uldred made his move and everything became so much worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the next chapter is a bit more fun and leads on to a lot my freedom with my writing. Let's bust out of the circle!


	5. Nightmares

Rounding the corner with blades drawn and a winter’s grasp spell brewing on the tips of mage fingers the party stopped short at the scene. An elf in torn robes blasted sharp ribbons of electricity from her fingers frying the three abominations before her. The abominations collapsed with a booming death yell exploding on impact with the ground. The explosion singed her only briefly as she drew up a barrier. Turning with a long expelled breath she froze seeing the four. Fear was her immediate reaction and she tried to feel out to the particles in the air and bend them to her will but she was too weak from constant fighting. Recognition, however, swiftly banished the fear and her heart reached out desperately towards the leader of the new group. 

“Oh thank the creators!” Running towards her felt like the sun had risen.

Neria’s mouth tore open into a grin and her ears twitched as she fiercely embraced her friend checking her over for injuries. Her leg had been sliced open but it was an old wound. Her form was criss-crossed with dangerous kisses from daggers and abomination claws. Mostly she just looked like she needed a really long rest. 

“What in the fade are you doing here?” Dawn questioned drawing back and giving a quick glance to her companions. One was a handsome scruffy blonde with a raised eyebrows and amusement buzzing from his being. The second was a tall woman with fire for hair and kind eyes that made Dawn want to retreat into herself. The third one was – “Wynne!” Dawn grasped the older woman’s hands. 

“I don’t know how you survived in here but I am glad.” Her grey eyebrows dipped in thought, “I am dreadfully sorry we warded you in. We didn’t think any-”  
She quietened her with a gesture, “It’s fine, you kept the children safe and I can handle myself,” She looked down at her ravaged robes and ruptured flesh, “for the most part.”

“First Neria and now you. Are all elves born with an innate desire to charge towards the most dangerous thing in the room?” The blonde started.

Neria smiled easily, much easier than Dawn was used to catching her a little off guard, “You just lack a sense of adventure.”

“I have self preservation in its place with a generous peppering of dashing heroic charm. You just lack sense all together.”

Neria shook her head at him. Who was this beaming girl… woman before her, Dawn mused. Neria was brimming with life. She had become everything she was in all of their small moments of uninhibited laughter in their youth. If the whole thing was a charade from a desire demon she was beyond the point of caring. Almost.

“Neria, what did you say to me on my first night?” Her voice tentative footsteps on creaking stairs. A desire demon would probably be able to fish this out of her head but she had no idea why she would dream up the rest of Neria’s motley crew. 

The other elf took Dawn’s hands and whispered, “Grasping hands of goodbye, stolen sugar pastries and strong hands braiding my hair.” Neria let out a long breath and noticed the blonde’s eyes thoughtful in her periphery. She would have to watch out for him she thought with slightly narrowed eyes. 

“Well now that, that is taken care of,” Dawn dusted off her robes with little effect, “I can hear whispers from a sloth demon above. I have not slept for two days and we have to get passed him to find Niall. If he is still alive.” 

Neria cocked her head and what she heard plummeted her back into seriousness, “I can hear it too. Why Niall?”

“He has the Litany of Adralla. Our plan did not exactly go well… to plan. We’ll need it for… for Irving.” 

“Uldred has Irving?” 

“Uldred had everyone. So many joined him and the others were hunted by abominations and demons. All of the Templars have been killed or possessed.” 

“Even your Templar?”

“He’s not even remotely mi-… yes… I think so.”

“Well alright, let’s get a move on then.”

With the party fully healed they ventured forth with purpose ringed with trepidation. Dawn found them to be a surprisingly formidable bunch and tried unsuccessfully to keep the shock of Wynne’s prowess off her face.

“Oh there is still a bit of life left in these old bones.” Her voice held a wink and Dawn only smiled. After the nightmare of these last weeks, or if she was being honest years, of her life this was paradise. Everything going to the void had allowed her to fully come into her powers. The swift sweeps of her pilfered staff made her heart explode with satisfaction as her spells deftly took down enemies. She felt like the First. 

Then they were dragged deep into a part of the fade controlled by a sloth demon. Neria and Dawn found each other quickly and kept each other grounded as the morphed into various shapes and took down the barriers in their way to Neria’s companions. A smile crept into her lips in this strange place she had hoped to never visit again as she watched Neria fret over her ex-Templar.

“You really have it bad. I haven’t seen you do your mabari puppy impression since we first met Jowan.”

Neria scoffed, “Don’t make the Jowan thing out to be anything more than what it was: a two minute infatuation with his beautiful eyes.” While swiftly taking out two corpses that approached them with a fleeting inferno she continued, “I still can’t believe Jowan betrayed us all like that.” Fire burned brighter. 

Dawn sidled up behind the other elf’s back as they spun spells of storm and ice, vaporizing and melting their foes with ease. 

“I shouldn’t have brought him up. His made his bed of bones and now he has to lie in it.”

Chuckling darkly Neria responded taking out the last of the undead, “And he doesn’t even have to worry about the pointy bits cutting in to him because he could just summon demons from the marks it left to fetch him some wyvern down pillows.” Dawn snorted at the thought.

Racing to the next mouse hole Dawn smiled at her friend, “You know you derailed that pretty well back there.”

“That last corpse? You better believe it.”

Dawn grasped Neria slowing down time, “Alistair. The shem,” Neria’s lips twisted, “sorry the blonde. What’s with you two? Didn’t realize the wardens also offered a dating service.”

Neria only winked, “Come on, we have lives to save or have you forgotten that, that is what we do now?” Neria sunk into her mouse shape and disappeared through the gap. Dawn sighed but it held a light edge and followed. 

Rescuing their companions and defeating the sloth demon they continued upwards.

***

“Nice of the mages to bundle up this one safely in a barrier for us.” Alistair chirped and then recognition hit four of them.

“Cullen?” Alistair and Dawn spoke in unison. 

The figure before them was crouched finger nails digging it to an unruly mane of hair, “No, no, no, no. Enough with your games, demon! Why must you continue! I am not your pawn to play around with anymore.” His fingers raked down his face.

“Cullen,” Alistair cleared his throat gently approaching the barrier’s wall. Cullen lurched up with wild eyes reminding Dawn of a frightened Halla or maybe an approaching bear. “It’s Alistair, your old bunkmate,” he laughed emptily, “you snuck me cheese from the kitchens when they tried to starve me out. Do you remember?”

Neria watched Dawn closely paying attention to her every twitch, the way her hands kept dancing out tentatively to the barriers edge and the way her knees looked ready to buckle.

“You!” He focused on Dawn hot tears biting at his eyes, “have you not teased me enough with her? The one I cannot have but the one I crave so fiercely. It wouldn’t be right. It would be taking advantage. It wouldn’t be right.” He paced frantically.

“Cull-”

He whirled around, “No,” he proclaimed his eyes rising from dawn to the full heat of summer, “how dare you wear her lips, steal her voice. So beautiful, so soft, so fierce. A warrior within a mage.” He chuckled darkly, “All those wrong stupid things I said stoking that bonfire within her. So passionate, so daring, so strong. Her stories, her hair, her lips. Oh sweet Maker, why do you torment me. I cannot, I will not.” 

Dawn was stricken, her face pale as the strange lights of the barrier bounced of her skin. Her hand crept out and hovered palm poised lightly on the brim of the magic wall.

“Cullen it’s really me we are taking back the tower.”

“I don’t think the demons would have found me in your mind either.” Wynne said softly. 

Leliana’s long fingers gripped her water skin, “You poor thing, we have water… how long have they kept you in here?”

The sun set in Cullen’s eyes as realization hit him like a fist, “You’re all really here?” 

Dawn nodded, “Cullen I had no idea you felt the sa-”

“No, it was all the foolish fancies of a naive boy. Mages must be leashed. You’ve seen everything they’ve done here. They destroy everything they touch. I once thought them to be people. Questioned our actions here but no.” He shook his head ridding himself of old thoughts as Dawn withdrew her hand, “Alistair, you must kill them all. Purge the tower. These mages, all mages are just vessels. All fall so easily to temptation.”

Neria strode towards the barrier stepping in front of her friend, “I will not spill innocent blood. I have nothing but empathy for everything that has happened here and to you but it is clouding your judgement.”

“No you must!” 

Alistair stepped up to the pair gingerly moving them away with eyes fixed on his old friend, “Come on, he’ll be okay in a while we’ve got to deal with them all up stairs.” Neria looked up at him with sharp eyes, “you lead, I follow willingly.” He spoke to her with underlying passion to his words. 

Dawn shot a look back at the broken Templar. His eyes held nothing for her but contempt. Her heart fractured and the battered piece she had let him claim floated towards him and crumpled vulnerable at his feet as they raced up the stairs.

***

Dawn helped a shaky Irving to his feet.

“Another day saved.” Alistair pronounced.

Irving laid a hand on Neria and Dawn’s shoulders, “I am so proud of the both of you.” Irving’s word washed over them cleansing some of the heartache. 

Gregoir had, much to their surprise, been pleased that they had avoided purging the hold. Cullen had been rescued and argued with him at the front gate causing Dawn’s stomach to dive to the bottom of the outside lake. She wished she could go hide from him with it. They exchange no words only harsh eyes that softened only slightly as the group retreated. Gregoir and Irving were happy enough to grant leave for Wynne and Dawn to fight the blight. They were after all still leashed by their phylacteries. 

Neria whispered in her pointed ear, “I destroyed your phylactery along with mine when we were in Denerim. Roguish friends come in handy.” She winked. Dawn almost stopped walking. That meant she was truly free. Free to return to the forest, free to forever leave these halls of stone and free to become the woman she had stifled here. The giddiness almost made her heart stop. Her eyes lightly grazed over her friend who had slunk over to laugh with Wynne. She had no idea how she would thank her but she knew should would spend her entire life trying. Funny how some people bring only light into this world and other seek only to snuff it out.

Bursting through the gates Dawn slipped off her shoes and threw them into the lake earning a startled laugh from Alistair. 

“Those slippers were so last season, am I right Leels?” 

Grass! She sunk her feet into its blades wet from the night’s chill. Her laugh infecting them all with true smiles as they beckoned her to the docks. She followed dipping her toes into the ice water as she went smiling at the sharp feeling.

“You know what you need, chérie?” Leliana sang slipping her arms easily around Dawn’s waist as they thudded along the wood of the docks, “A warm fire and a good story.”

Instead of shying away from touch Dawn had always craved it. The gentlest touch from Neria had always calmed her and was always welcomed. 

Neria nodded latching on to Dawn’s other side, “Come back with us. We’ll head to the Brecilian Forest next maybe the Dalish there can help you find your clan?”  
Dawn’s eyes skirted over the lake that surrounded Kinloch Hold breathing in freedom, “I would like that.” Rejoining the Dalish was everything she ever wanted but a warm vial in her robe made her mind wander elsewhere momentarily. 

Neria squeezed her side as Alistair dashed up tentatively grazing Neria’s waist causing her to blush ferociously. 

“Couldn’t miss out on whatever this is.” Alistair grinned causing them all to disentangle with a light groan and hop on the boat. 

“Something I said?” Alistair inquired taking a seat next to Neria. 

Staring emphatically at the smear Alistair’s armour had left on her robes Neria looked up at him with mock anger, “Can’t take you anywhere. This is why we can’t have nice things.”

“We can’t have that, you deserve nice things. I will buy you the finest robes from Denerim.”

“With what sovereigns?”

Alistair jingled a small pouch, “I just looted a small fortune off our undead friends back there…”

Neria smiled up at him causing his throat to seize and he laughed awkwardly to fill up the air. She leaned in causing the blonde to clear his throat. With his eyes preoccupied her swift hands nabbed the pouch from his hand and peered in side.

“Heeey.” He protested provoking a soft chuckle from Wynne.

“There’s 50 silvers in here. I hope you like me in rags.”

“Oh, I think I would. You could seduce the darkspawn with your soft skin and poisonous sarcasm.”

“I think Darkspawn like it rough actually,” Dawn smirked at the boy, he really did not want to play these games with Neria she bites, “Don’t tease or I’ll make you wash Phoenix back at camp.”

“And that is why Neria should be a silent hero. Only trouble can come from her lips.” Alistair quipped.

“You would not want it any other way.”She sung back digging through her pack for apples for them to share.

Dawn tuned them out and focused on the soothing lap of the ocean that seemed to flow right through her calming her being. Leaning gently against Leliana the tall red head smiled softly and began braiding her hair delicately as the boat bobbed gently to home


End file.
